


Vermeil and Red

by meanderingmirth



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:33:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7436137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanderingmirth/pseuds/meanderingmirth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sorry, Hakyeon, but for a moment there I thought I just heard the most ludicrous words coming out of your month,” Sanghyuk laughs, even though there’s nothing funny about the situation, and he thinks his heart might beat out of his chest at the rate it’s going. “You wanted me, the one who brought the Wolf in, to team up with him and go <i>back</i> into the woods?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vermeil and Red

**Author's Note:**

> loosely based on the fairy tale “Little Red Riding Hood”.
> 
> Happy (belated) Hyuk Day! ☆☆(—w—)☆☆
> 
> enjoy~

 

He was fairly certain the pounding on the door downstairs was starting to synchronize with the pounding behind his temple before he heard footsteps across the room, and muttered curse of annoyance, and the front door being wrenched open. Namjoo’s voice spoke up, most likely telling the new arrival off for their way of announcing their presence, and then a moment later the door slams shut again.

Sanghyuk sighs, turning back over to burrow himself further into the squashy mattress, only to yelp when an ice cold hand grabs his ankle at the foot of the bed.

“Oh, shush,” Namjoo grumbles, smacking him on the leg. “You’re fine. Get up, you have to go.”

“Nooo,” Sanghyuk finds himself mumbling. He draws the blanket up to his chin and whines louder when Namjoo begins yanking on the end, beginning a huge tug-of-war, which ends with Sanghyuk loosing because he is incredibly hungover while Namjoo is fit as a fiddle. He shivers madly when the cold air begins to creep up his spine. Namjoo snorts and tosses the blanket aside, a smug look on her face as she gives him one more solid whack to his calf.

“Get up, you lazy oaf. Even if I did have a generous enough heart to let you sleep in ‘till noon, you have to go. Jaehwan’s at the door.”

“Oh, gods no,” Sanghyuk says in horror, sitting bolt upright. He’s very much awake now, even if it’s barely light out. “I’m not here. Did you say I was here?”

“Yes,” Namjoo replies, arching an eyebrow as she fixes the tail end of her braid.

“Go back right this instant and tell him I’m not present,” Sanghyuk demands, pointing at the door with an unfortunately shaky finger, which does little to make him look intimidating at all.

“You go back and tell him yourself,” Namjoo laughs, and strolls to the edge of the little attic scaffolding Sanghyuk had somehow managed to wedge himself up on yesterday night, even after all those drinks. He must’ve instinctively climbed that rickety ladder Namjoo is currently descending down from, knowing that there was no way he’d find a comfortable sleeping area on the first floor with all of Namjoo’s tools and experimental weapons lying about.

“Don’t make him wait!” his friend calls from below, and Sanghyuk covers his face with both hands, groaning loudly into his palms. All of his bones feel creaky and thin, like they might snap if he uses any kind of sudden movement, so he figures he can’t be blamed if he takes his time pulling his boots and shirt on before taking very slow, very gingerly steps down the ladder and hobbling to the washing basin across the room. His hair is an abominable bird’s nest when he glances into the cracked, dusty mirror hanging over the jug of water, and Sanghyuk closes his eyes briefly, trying not to let the wave of nausea overtake him.

“Hurry up, grumpy pants, you don’t have all day,” Namjoo says from behind him, and when he turns, she’s holding out his pouch, dagger, and his red cloak. Sanghyuk immediately reaches for the objects, thanking her as he tucks his pouch into the folds of his vest, straps the dagger to his waist, and throws the cloak over his shoulders, feeling the heavy material fan out in the back before it settles on him, crimson falling smoothly over his arms and back. Sanghyuk does up the knot at his throat, shoots Namjoo a pitifully betrayed look over his shoulder, and finally steps up to the front door.

A gust of ice-cold wind whips his hair back and send a spray of snow flying into his face before Sanghyuk regains himself, waving the flakes out of his vision. Standing a little ways beyond the front steps, shin-deep in the powdery white, is Jaehwan. He’s tucked into his scratchy old cloak, puffing on a pipe as he shivers in the cold. His nose is bright red.

“Good luck,” Namjoo laughs, because she knows the rest of Sanghyuk’s day probably isn’t going to swimmingly at all, and that’s funny to her in a way that only good friends find amusing. Sanghyuk makes a face before the door closes behind him, and he has to brave the freezing cold himeslf. Sighing, he watches as his breath rises in a little puff of smoke before he flips the red hood up over his head and sinks his feet into the snow.

“About time,” Jaehwan complains as Sanghyuk finally makes it up to him, and then recoils. “My god, you smell like a tankard of stale ale.”

“How  _can_  you smell anything with that frozen nose?” Sanghyuk retorts, and Jaehwan scoffs, putting his pipe out before folding himself back behind his cloak.

“Yeah, that’s how bad you stink. Anyway, let’s go, we’ve been loitering for too long and you know he doesn’t like being kept waiting.”

And Sanghyuk has to wince a little at that, because Jaehwan’s appearance and his request to see Sanghyuk is a request that comes from a much higher power than the two of them, and certainly a much stronger one. It certainly isn’t wise to annoy someone like  _that_.

The trudge through the snow takes them out of the cluster of cottage homes and down a mostly-buried path, undisturbed by any of the usual human activity because firstly, it is ass o’clock in the morning and nobody in their right minds would be voluntarily awake at this hour. Secondly, the snow’s already accumulated quite a bit overnight, and it’s in everybody’s interests to just stay at home and do their best to keep a large fire going on in the hearth instead of, say, wading through the flurries to visit the village’s unofficial leader.

Their path takes them through some of the closed shops by the village square and past the row of towering old lodgings that seem to lean right out into the street until they walk up to an unobtrusive little cabin, nearly buried beneath the snow save for a tiny little trench carved out in front of the doorway, and a chimney poking out of the white, where a sliver of smoke was escaping from.

Jaehwan retrieves a cluttered ring of keys from his sleeves and opens the front door after a few experimental jabs, and the two of them shuffle deep into the cabin the moment they can slip inside. Jaehwan shivers and stamps his feet as Sanghyuk pushes the hood off his head, shaking his rumpled hair out of his face. The knot around his neck slips loose and he folds the cloak down his arm, brushing the bit of snow off. It’s cold to the touch, but dry and warm on the inside.

Jaehwan looks up towards the stairs as he tosses his own damp cloak over a hook by the fireplace. “Let’s go up, maybe he’s waiting for us—”

But he’s interrupted by a figure stepping out from another room, a tray in hand as he strolls into the light, and Jaehwan says instead, “Oh, Hakyeon, you’re down here.”

“I am,” Hakyeon says cheerfully, walking around the bulky seats positioned in front of the fire to set the tray down on the carved wooden table. There’s tea there, along with an array of sugar biscuits and a tiny jar of jam. Sanghyuk’s stomach immediately protests at the sight of something sweet and heavy, but Jaehwan is already helping himself to two biscuits, settling comfortably into the wicker chairs and the fur piece thrown over the seat.

“Come and sit, Sanghyuk,” Hakyeon offers, and then he wrinkles his nose slightly. “Why do you smell like a tankard of stale ale?”

Sanghyuk rolls his eyes and eases himself into the seat opposite of Jaehwan’s, letting Hakyeon take the one in the middle. “Why did you call me out so early in the morning?” he asks instead. “It’s so cold hellfire might’ve frozen over outside.”

Hakyeon smiles, and even though he looks serene there’s something serious in the depths of his eyes.

“There’s been a situation,” he says, and Sanghyuk’s stomach lurches again, but for a different reason.  _Situation_  is Hakyeon’s way of keeping the calm on what is usually a really serious problem. “I received another report from the county down south. They found two travellers on the road again, dead.”

Sanghyuk frowns and leans forwards, resting his elbows on his knees. “When?”

“The bodies were discovered yesterday, late afternoon,” Hakyeon says. “But the news was not brought to us until dawn broke this morning.”

“What? Why didn’t they tell us immediately?” Sanghyuk exclaims, incredulous.

“Night was falling,” Hakyeon shakes his head. “You know the townsfolk, they won’t travel once evening arrives.”

Sanghyuk shakes his head. “Well, it’s too late for anything now.”

“They don’t have the same capacity to protect themselves on the road as we do,” Hakyeon reminds him. “That’s why they come to us for help.”

“The Village of Frightening Folk,” Jaehwan quips, and Hakyeon sighs.

“We are not frightening in any way. We simply live different lives than those people—”

“We were criminals,” Jaehwan sing-songs. “And we’re still technically criminals now, but mostly tolerated.”

“Anyway,” Hakyeon says, turning back to Sanghyuk, and Jaehwan winks mischievously in his direction while he takes a sip of tea. “My suspicions of these killings are leaning towards the supernatural.”

“You think it’s linked to all the other ones?” Sanghyuk asks in surprise, and Hakyeon nods.

“Gentlemen, I think we’ve got a serial killer on our hands.”

“A supernatural serial killer,” Jaehwan adds. “Unfortunately.”

“Which is why you’re here,” Hakyeon says, and both he and Jaehwan turn to look at Sanghyuk. He groans, flopping back onto the fur throw over his seat.

“What, me? Again? Is your pool of contacts really so limited, Hakyeon?”

“No, but my pool of contacts who I think can get out of this one alive certainly is,” Hakyeon answers, and Sanghyuk squints at him. Hakyeon probably sense some kind of resistance coming his way, because he immediately adds, “Also, I’m actually going to pay you well for this, so you can enjoy the money comfortably when you’re done the job.”

“Wow, this task must  _really_  suck if you’re offering to pay me well already.”

Hakyeon smiles at him again, and there’s a pause that stretches on for a little too long that immediately pricks at Sanghyuk’s suspicions. Before Hakyeon could open his mouth and speak again, he says, “What?”

“Hm?” Hakyeon blinks.

“You’re not telling me something,” Sanghyuk prods, and his gaze flickers over to Jaehwan, who’s taking a rather calculated sip of tea, eyes shying away from Sanghyuk’s. Hakyeon has an incredible poker face that’s nigh impenetrable, but there’s one weak link in his mask: Jaehwan, who can’t even tell a white lie without blinking too much. And he’s the village’s unofficial leader’s unofficial attendant, so Sanghyuk can trust that Jaehwan knows a few things here and there too.

“Cutthroat as always,” Hakyeon shrugs, picking up his own cup. “Well, I wasn’t going to hide it from you, since it’s not something you wouldn’t notice.”

“Oh, he’ll notice alright,” Jaehwan snorts, and gets a light kick to the ankle.

“Notice  _what_ ,” Sanghyuk demands, impatient, and Hakyeon looks him straight in the eye before dropping the bomb.

“For this task, I’m releasing the Wolf from the underground to work with you.”

Sanghyuk stares at him, and for a moment he thinks he might still be drunk, but Jaehwan is now very interested in looking at the ugly paintings on the wall, and Hakyeon is looking at him expectantly. He sniffs the air, nose twitching, and exhales in a short burst.

“Sorry, Hakyeon, but for a moment there I thought I just heard the most ludicrous words coming out of your month,” Sanghyuk laughs, even though there’s nothing funny about the situation, and he thinks his heart might beat out of his chest at the rate it’s going. “You wanted me, the one who brought the Wolf in, to team up with him and go  _back_  into the woods?”

“Exactly,” Hakyeon answers.

“And that is the best plan you’ve come up with? Are you joking?”

“Believe it or not, it’s the most logically sound one, yes,” Hakyeon says, resting his chin on his hands, and Sanghyuk scoffs so loudly it startles Jaehwan back into looking at him.

“You are crazy,” Sanghyuk breathes, incredulous awe in his voice. “No, actually, I take that back, you  _absolutely_  crazy.”

“I assure you, I am perfectly fine,” Hakyeon replies, and Sanghyuk stands swiftly, until he’s towering over Hakyeon; just as quickly, Jaehwan is on his feet, standing between the two of them. His palm is sitting at the base of Sanghyuk’s neck, a warning, but he doesn’t make another move beyond that. Sanghyuk flares his nostril, glaring down at Hakyeon.

“You do know what I went through trying to catch the Wolf, right?” he asks, the half-lie heavy on his tongue, and Hakyeon nods.

“I was with you every step of the way.”

“I also thought I told you I was done. Small, simple jobs I’ll take, larger ones in a pinch, but this isn’t anything I signed up for. I want to be able to live comfortably with some remaining limbs left in the future, you know.”

“Life can’t be too comfortable if you’re running out of money to live on,” Hakyeon points out, and Sanghyuk nearly goes for him then, if only Jaehwan’s hand didn’t hold him back. It was like trying to walk against an iron statue.

“My funds are none of your business,” he snaps, but there’s a tiny bit of his sensibility inside him that’s rising meekly, voicing something along the lines of  _he’s right you know, money is dwindling_. He quickly stamps out that voice before it could get stronger. If he’s doing this, it isn’t going to be for the money.

“I’m willing to work with anybody else. Literally anybody. I’ll even hunt with Sungjae. I’m sure his cast can come off by now.”

“He’s not fit to go anywhere beyond his arm’s reach yet and you know it,” Hakyeon replies. “And please— don’t go to his place and try to entice the idiot into running out on another adventure when his leg is still in shambles. Eunkwang will actually cry.”

Sanghyuk grumbles, because that was definitely something he would’ve tried, if only it means he wouldn’t have to go with...

“You’re scared of the Wolf, aren’t you?” Hakyeon asks, and Sanghyuk looks up so fast he feels his neck crick.

“No,” he defends, but it’s weak. Hakyeon shakes his head and tugs at the hem of Jaehwan’s sweater. His attendant backs away at once, shooting Sanghyuk an apologetic look.

“I don’t know what he’s done that’s got you so shaken, even after so long, but I can promise you that he won’t hurt you. I’ll make sure of that.”

“I can handle myself fine,” Sanghyuk says stiffly, and he sits back down, for a lack of a better thing to do. Hakyeon watches him, something akin to worry and exasperation mixed on his face.

“Please, Sanghyuk. You’re the only one I can trust on this.”

“And you trust the Wolf too?” Sanghyuk demands, and Hakyeon purses his lips.

“Not quite, but this is a special case. I trust in you to keep your composure as well. Besides, this is a supernatural case. It takes one of the same kind to know another one.”

Sanghyuk stares at him. Hakyeon looks back, not a hair out of place, and Sanghyuk drops his hands onto the armrests, squeezing the wicker until his knuckles turn white.

“I’m nuts for letting you talk me into this,” he hisses. “I’m retiring the moment we apprehend the suspects, Hakyeon.”

“If that is your decision, I’ll see it through,” Hakyeon promises, and just like that, the deal is sealed before a roaring fireplace while the snow continues to fall outside.

+

Of course, the fact that he’s working with the Wolf means that they have to retrieve the Wolf first, which calls for a trip down into the underground that Sanghyuk’s fairly certain nobody but the burrowing field mice enjoy taking.

The entrance to the prison is located in a small guardhouse near the northern edge of the forest, which stands alone under the watchful eyes of several crows that seem to constantly inhabit the branches looming above the stone house. They’re flanked by two young boys from the village as he, Jaehwan and Hakyeon duck inside. Jaehwan pulls out his huge collection of keys and opens a heavy gate before stepping down the stone stairs first, path illuminated only by the thin little torches mounted on the walls. The temperature, if possible, seems to drop even more with each step they take, and by the time they reach the bottom of the stairs, Sanghyuk’s certain there’s a thin layer of frost spreading on the material of his cloak.

Hakyeon greets the guards at the entranceway of the prison, and they walk through halls housing all sorts of strange people. Most of them huddle away from the light, but there are several that leer at them through the bars, face shadowed by the inadequate light, glassy eyes and wide grins trailing after them as they walk on. The hoarse chanting and rattling don’t stop until it fades away from distance, and Sanghyuk lags behind momentarily, caught up in the whispers sneaking along the walls until he suddenly hears Hakyeon speak.

“Good afternoon, Taekwoon.”

He turns, and sees that they’ve come to a turn in the road, and Hakyeon and Jaehwan have stepped into a little nook in the corner while the two village lads are standing against the wall, petrified looks on their faces. They clutch their pitchforks like it’s the only thing keeping them upright, and Sanghyuk has to suppress a snort as he walks up to them, watching their terrified eyes dart over to him. He leans in conspiratorially, voice a staged whisper: “Are you afraid of the big bad Wolf?”

“W-what?” one of the teens stammers, and Sanghyuk doesn’t deign to reply. He turns with a swish of his cloak and steps up to where Hakeyon and Jaehwan are standing in the cramped space, each holding a torch in hand.

He can make out a figure sitting near the back of the cell, but there’s a flash as two eyes look up at him. Sanghyuk fights not to fidget under the sudden unnerving quality of the gaze, and instead stares right back, waiting.

After what feels like an endless pause, the shadow moves, and the Wolf finally steps into the light. He’s slimmer than Sanghyuk remembers, much paler too, though he doesn’t image this place gets a lot of sunlight. But the predatory quality of his movements is still present, even when he’s in the form of a man, and Sanghyuk’s chest tightens like there’s iron bands around his middle when Taekwoon places his thin hands on the bars of the cell and looks at him through the gap between Hakyeon and Jaehwan.

“Have you considered my words?” he asks Sanghyuk directly, and Sanghyuk stiffens, ignoring the confused glance Jaehwan shoots him over his shoulder.

“I haven’t really considered anything,” Sanghyuk replies shortly, and his heart throbs. Taekwoon sighs, dropping his forehead against the iron. He doesn’t look angry, just mildly exasperated before it changes to an expression of curiosity.

“Then why,” he asks, looking around, “Are you all here?”

“To make a deal,” Hakyeon interjects, because indeed, making deals is his way of doing business in an isolate little town full of dangerous people— which, in turn, shows that he probably is the most dangerous one of them all.

Taekwoon tilts his head. “What deal?”

“Help Sanghyuk find and capture the supernatural creature that’s killing travellers on the roads between villages,” Hakyeon states, short and to the point. “And for that, we’ll give you back some of your freedom.”

“Only some?” Taekwoon asks, leaning away from the bars. “What a shame.”

“You’re not that innocent,” Jaehwan tuts.

“Neither are you,” Taekwoon points out, and Jaehwan cracks a wide grin.

“You got that right, you big pup.”

Taekwoon wrinkles his nose and turns away from Jaehwan before settling on Sanghyuk again. “You can make your promises, yes, but how do I know he won’t kill me?” he asks, looking at Sanghyuk. He feels his palms go sweaty, and fixes his gaze on the bit of rust around the old lock.  _Him_ , kill the Wolf. What a joke. Sanghyuk might laugh, but it doesn’t really feel like one.

“Sanghyuk won’t do that,” Hakyeon promises, and Taekwoon sighs.

“He already tried once,” he says, and Hakyeon gives Sanghyuk a look over his shoulder.

“It’ll be different this time. If Sanghyuk hurts you, I’ll do something about that myself.”

“Rude,” Sanghyuk complains loudly, and Hakyeon ignores him in favour of turning to look back at Taekwoon.

“But. If  _you_  hurt Sanghyuk, rest assured you won’t only be returning to this underground anymore.”

A loaded silence falls between them; Taekwoon’s gaze is challengeing on Hakyeon, and Hakyeon only deflets the gaze with a calm look at Sanghyuk, and now the two of them are watching him and Sanghyuk’s starting to feel itchy around the collar. The only sounds that could be heard were the chattering teeth of the teenagers standing behind them before Jaehwan clucks his tongue, a sharp sound, and they all jolt back to their senses.

“Deal,” Taekwoon says softly, and Sanghyuk groans.

“Perfect,” Hakyeon hums, and he nods at Jaehwan, who pulls more keys out of his pockets. “Let’s get started.”

+

They give Taekwoon an enchanted choker— black leather, with a silver clasp at the back that makes him grumble and fidget with it at every opportunity. Jaehwan had apparently placed the spell on it personally, which makes Sanghyuk feel marginally safer; Hakyeon was smart and sly, but his spellcasting wasn’t worth shit. The choker would effectively prevent Taekwoon from transforming into his true form, which was essentially just a black wolf the size of a grown bear, and Sanghyuk supposed that was the bit of silver lining behind this whole project. Taekwoon can’t change, which only left his sharp fangs, retractable claws, enhanced sense of smell and night vision and his superior physical capabilities. Oh yes, easy to deal with.

When Taekwoon first set foot out of the guardhouse, he recoiled so sharply he nearly walked backwards into Sanghyuk. Sanghyuk froze up immediately, but Taekwoon just let out a shaky exhale and bounded out into the snow, tripping immediately over a particularly large snowbank and falling face first into the powder.

Sanghyuk stumbled to a halt, looking between Hakyeon and Jaehwan, but a moment later Taekwoon simply surfaced and rolled over on the ground, arms and legs splayed open, and he let out a barking laugh that echoed around the clearing.

“Someone’s excited,” Jaehwan comments, and Sanghyuk nods mutely, unable to speak as he watches Taekwoon turn back on all fours. He pushes himself up on his knees and inhales deeply, breathing in the cold winter air.

“Feeling good?” Hakyeon asks, and Taekwoon turns to look up at him.

“It’s nice to smell fresh air,” he says simply, before he’s back on his feet and standing beside Sanghyuk again. Their eyes meet; Sanghyuk turns away almost at once because Taekwoon’s expression is difficult for him to look at. His chest aches.

“Well, off we go, then,” Hakyeon calls, not noticing the two of them, and Sanghyuk takes a quick step forwards so he doesn’t have to stay in line with Taekwoon again. Jaehwan can bring up the rear, he figures. There are more important matters at hand.

They stop by Sanghyuk’s cottage before going out into the woods, and he makes everyone stay by the door as he slips through each of the rooms, gathering his things whilst pretending not to notice the way Taekwoon is sniffing the air with interest, bright eyes roaming around this feebly furnished, but nevertheless comfortable home. A pouch of rock salt, his throwing knives, a few portable spells he’d picked up from Jaehwan last time, and then he was ushering them out the front door, not willing to loiter any longer.

“I suppose the logical first stop would be the trail the bodies were discovered on,” Sanghyuk says, and Hakyeon nods, pulling out a map from the folds of his coat.

“The southern trail. We can’t hope there’ll be any clues left with this amount of snow, but it’s a place to start.”

“Fair enough,” Sanghyuk nods. “Then... Taekwoon and I... we’ll head that way.” There’s a lump in his throat as he speaks, and he wills it to go away.

“Come back before it’s dark,” Hakyeon says, and they part ways there, Hakyeon and Jaehwan trudging back up to Hakyeon’s cabin while the two of them slip into the woods, walking in awkward silence until the trees grow thicker and the snow piles higher.

When they reach the wired fence at the edge of the village, Sanghyuk pauses by the post. The path is visible, despite the fair amount of snow on it, and it’s outlined by the thin trees growing alongside the trail. It goes on for a bit before sloping downwards, to which his vision could no longer see beyond that, and for the first time ever, he feels a bit of trepidation stepping out of the village. Which is nonsense, because he’s been on trips far more dangerous than this, though admittedly none of them had been in the company of a—

“What’s the matter?” Taekwoon asks, coming to a stop beside him. He’s looking out into the trees too, scanning the landscape. Sanghyuk swallows and shakes his head.

“Nothing,” he mutters. “Just thinking.”

Taekwoon hums his understanding, even if his gaze is still a piercing one. He’s only dressed in a thin black coat and had commandeered one of Jaehwan’s old scarves, which he’s wrapped around his neck. The choker gleams from the gaps in the fabric, silver shiny despite the lack of sun coming from the greyish overcast.

“Let’s not think for too long,” Taekwoon suggests, and he steps out onto the path first, carving out a little trail with his steps. Sanghyuk puffs out a breath and adjusts the strings around his neck, taking comfort in the fact that his cloak keeps the warmth in well enough for a long trip like this.

“Don’t get distracted,” he mumbles to himself, and flips the hood up before following after Taekwoon’s retreating back.

He’s been this way before, a few times during the summer days when the southern counties and villages would harvest delicious, juicy fruit that didn’t fare so well in the dryer lands up in their criminal village, but travel during the winter was scarce enough as it is. That, along with the terrifying supernatural deaths, is enough to make anyone turn in early before the sun could truly set.

“Sanghyuk.”

He looks up, and sees that Taekwoon has stopped in the middle of the path, looking down.

“What? What is it?” he asks, hushed, and reaches for his dagger. But Taekwoon simply shakes his head and kneels down, brushing the snow aside until he reveals clumps of dark red in the snow— bloodstains, but hours old already.

“The victims died here,” he murmurs, and Sanghyuk moves to crouch next to him, the red cloak pooling around his back as he pulls a glove off to touch the snow.

“Do you smell anything?” he asks, and Taekwoon dutifully lifts his nose into the air, sniffing.

“Aside from the bit of blood... nothing much,” he replies. Sanghyuk straightens, frowning.

“Nothing? What of the thing that killed them, whatever it was?”

Taekwoon shakes his head again. “Nothing,” he says, striding around the path. “Nothing... yet.” He stops by a tree, nose twitching as he smells around it, and then touches the wood. In a flash, claws burst forth from where his fingernails would’ve been, and Taekwoon digs them into the bark of the tree, hoisting himself up into the lower branches. Sanghyuk steps forward, watching him climb with quick agility, and Taekwoon lowers his nose against the curve of the tree branch until he makes a sharp noise in his throat and sits upright, looking right down at Sanghyuk.

“A scent,” he says, harsh. The tone makes him stiffen instinctively. “Hakyeon was right. It’s supernatural.”

“Do you know what it is?” Sanghyuk asks at once, and Taekwoon nods.

“It’s from the under earth,” he answers, and Sanghyuk feels a chill that has nothing to do with the weather run down his spine. “Hot ash. Hell Fire.”

“ _Demons_ ,” he breathes, and pulls his dagger out from its sheath. “Does the scent go any further?”

Taekwoon nods, and points towards the next tree.

“Good,” Sanghyuk nods. “Follow it.”

Taekwoon leaps from the branch so fast Sanghyuk nearly misses it, if not for his well-trained eyesight, and the moment Taekwoon lands in the snow he’s already sprinting through the trees, snapping thin lower branches aside and slipping through the trunks like oil rolling over water. Sanghyuk is a little less elegant, but he’s no stranger to these woods, and the long hem of his cape billows like a wave of crimson behind him as he takes after Taekwoon. It’s such an odd feeling, placing all his trust on the creature that he once considered his nemesis.

Taekwoon’s head start has given him a bit of a head start on Sanghyuk, and he hopes that if they manage to track down whatever it is that’s been killing travellers on the road, Taekwoon will be there to take it down first. But to his surprise, Taekwoon suddenly skids to an unintended halt, nearly slipping in the snow. Then he turns, and Sanghyuk almost balks in his steps when he sees the Wolf’s eyes on him; a mixture of ice cold blue and white, flashing in the faint afternoon light.

Suddenly, he’s standing in the middle of a forest clearing facing off his worst enemy all over again, staring down the Wolf in a time where orange and yellow and red leaves swirled around them, the winter not yet settled in, and the Wolf was haunched over, ready to pounce,  _but it hadn’t_ , because it was shifting from its shape, light eyes turning dark, canine face turning into the one of the man he loves, and the truth was coming to light—

“Sanghyuk!” present Taekwoon bellows, and Sanghyuk jolts back into reality the same moment he feels an ominous presence charing him down on his left side. He instantly knows why Taekwoon had turned around and is running back to him instead, because something had been lying in wait for them in the shadows.

A solid body collides into Sanghyuk mid-step, and the spells he’d sewn into the lining of his red cloak repels the demon so harshly it knocks both of them flat on their backs. The two of them fall into the snow, writhing and spasming, and Sanghyuk struggles as he sinks into the powder, feeling snow fall into the back of his shirt when his hood drops off his head. His dagger disappears into the whiteness, knocked from his grip, and then hands, burning hot, grab him around the throat and squeezes relentlessly. Sanghyuk chokes, vision obscured by a mass of swirling black atop of him as he fumbles desperately for his weapon.

But he only has to feel a blinding moment of panic before there’s a thunderous snarl before Taekwoon comes barreling out from his peripherals. The Wolf pounces and sinks his fangs into the mass. An unearthly shriek sounds from the darkness, and as Taekwoon wrestles the shape down, Sanghyuk abandons his search for his weapon and leaps to his feet instead. He shoves his hand into his pouch, withdrawing a handful of rock salt, and throws his cloak off his shoulder as he throws the minerals at the flailing mess on the forest floor.

The scream that wretches out of the shape is ear-grating and  _almost_  inhumane, at least until the black starts melting away like boiling tar and all that’s left is a young man with gold-brown hair sobbing in the snow, angry red rashes from where the salt had landed on his skin, where the thin rags draped over him couldn’t cover. Sanghyuk freezes in his tracks, panting heavily, and Taekwoon sits up. He looks equally surprised, but his claws are still digging firmly into the man’s chest, holding him down.

They exchange dumbfounded looks until a sudden coldness washes over them like an icy shower, making Taekwoon’s hackles rise and a growl sound from his throat. Sanghyuk immediately grabs another handful of salt, pulse pounding. This feeling— not one, but  _two_  demons?

But to their shock, the man in the snow suddenly turns over and screams up to the trees, “No, Wonshik, run! Run away!”

Sanghyuk can feel the chill flowing through the air; it’s like the demon is a storm cloud that's headed their way before changing its course and passing them by at the last minute. The electricity and unease has his instincts screaming for him to get away as well, but a moment later, the chill makes a turn and vanishes sharply between the trees. The ominous feeling disappears with it, leaving the three of them behind. Taekwoon looks between Sanghyuk and the trees, twitching.

“What now?” he asks, urgent. “Do you want me to chase it?”

“No,” Sanghyuk breathes. He feels buzzed, like he’s had a whole round of ales and then took a shot of hot whiskey he knows will knock him black out the minute he stands on his feet. He glances down at their captive, and sees that the man in the snow is starting to shake from the cold. “Let’s go back. We have our lead now anyway.”

+

It has been nearly four hours since Hakyeon shut himself up in the room upstairs with their suspect after they’d returned with the shivering man on shaky legs, and there hasn’t been a peep from either of them. Jaehwan keeps pacing up and down the stairs, wearing holes in the soles of his shoes probably, and Sanghyuk’s made himself comfortable in front of the hearth to the best of his ability, what with his whole body prickling at both the feeling of a demon in the room... and with Taekwoon.

The pipeweed Jaehwan keeps is the kind that refreshes the senses and delivers a strong kick to the sleep-weary, so Sanghyuk’s puffing his way through pinch after pinch of the stuff in an effort to keep himself from getting distracted by his own musings. He trusts Hakyeon to do his own shit, even if it does mean dealing with something like a demon.

He hears footsteps heading down towards the kitchen again, the fourth time in almost an hour, and Sanghyuk turns his head in time to see Taekwoon’s retreating back disappearing around the doorframe. There’s something in the way he’s walking that makes him stand up from his seat before he’s fully aware of himself. But Sanghyuk has never claimed to be an intelligent man. More than anything else, he relies on his gut, and right now it’s telling him to go to Taekwoon.

So, he does.

When he brushes the beaded curtain aside, it reveals Taekwoon leaning over the basin at the back of the room, looking down at his hands.

“What are you doing?” Sanghyuk asks without thinking, and Taekwoon spins around.

“Nothing,” he mumbles, and Sanghyuk squints, crossing over to the Wolf’s side in a few strides. Taekwoon turns away, mouth set resolutely in what might be a slight pout, but Sanghyuk grabs his wrists with both hands.

“Show me,” he says, maybe a little harsher than he’d intended, but Taekwoon simply blinks at him before heaving the tiniest of sighs, and turns his hands over. Sanghyuk winces at the sight— Taekwoon’s palms are red and blistered, like he’d touched a white-hot iron. He lets go at once, but Taekwoon doesn’t step away from him. He tilts his head, like an inquisitive little dog, and Sanghyuk sucks in a breath.

“Did that happen when you caught the demon?”

“It’s not a demon,” Taekwoon mumbles, and Sanghyuk exhales.

“You know, that’s what I thought so too. I didn’t think it’d give up the fight so quickly or lose its form like that earlier.”

Taekwoon nods, thoughtful. “Biting on it and holding it down would’ve caused damage to me, but not like this. It tasted acidic, and it burned my hands, but it didn’t feel like demon to me.”

“You go around biting demons a lot?” Sanghyuk asks, incredulous, and Taekwoon shakes his head, a funny look in his eyes.

“I haven’t been anywhere for a while until this morning, really. But that’s fine—”

Sanghyuk is already stepping back, feeling his own expression shuttering, but Taekwoon darts forwards and grabs his arms with both hands. “Don’t,” he says, rough. “Stop walking away.”

“Let go,” Sanghyuk says instantly, but his knees are feeling a little week, his heart is pounding in his chest, and his head is floating. This wasn’t supposed to happen— he was supposed to do his job, get the money, and go right back to his daily life. Nowhere in there was he supposed to collapse under the crippling amount of guilt in himself after seeing Taekwoon in the underground.

“Sanghyuk,” Taekwoon whispers, drawing him close, and Sanghyuk squeezes his eyes shut. That turned out to be a bad move, because now all he can hear is Taekwoon’s soft voice surrounding him, trying to comfort him. “Sanghyuk, listen to me. You need to stop whatever you’re thinking, because it’s not right.”

“I’m not—”

“You are blaming yourself,” Taekwoon interrupts, right to the point. “I can see it in your eyes, the line of your back. You still think you did something wrong turning me in.”

“I ruined your  _life_ ,” Sanghyuk hisses, opening his eyes, and his breath shortens when he sees the sadness in Taekwoon’s eyes.

“And I lied to you. For years. I never learned to control myself until it was too late, until you had to come after me yourself. I should’ve been upfront about what I was.”

“Why would you ever tell?” Sanghyuk demands, wanting to tug himself free from Taekwoon’s grip whilst trying to go easy on the other’s hands. “It’s not like admitting you can turn into a  _literal wolf_  is something you can just— just bring up, at the pub, or something—”

“I love you,” Taekwoon cuts in, blunt and honest, and Sanghyuk’s heart stutters, like the failing words in his mouth. “I love you, and I should have told  _you_  the truth at the very least. I didn’t want to make things worse. I chose to let you bring me in, Sanghyuk. You did the right thing.”

“You can’t say shit like that,” Sanghyuk groans, but his arms are winding around Taekwoon anyway, hugging the man close, and Taekwoon curls into him warmly, nuzzling against the side of his neck. They stand there for a while, simply holding each other, and when they part, Sanghyuk finally plucks up the courage to ask the question that’s been sitting at the back of his mind, eating away at his conscience until he’d begun to numb it with tankards of ale.

“Why would you even forgive me for turning you in?” he whispers, touching the side of Taekwoon’s face. “I could’ve just let you go.”

“You forgave me for lying and putting your life in danger,” Taekwoon answers simply. “And even if you wanted to let me go, the realization that I could’ve killed you is reason enough for me to find a way to prevent it from ever happening again.”

“So dramatic,” Sanghyuk groans, covering his eyes. “I would’ve kicked your ass to kingdom come, I’ll have you know.”

Taekwoon’s fingers curl around his wrist, and what follows when he pries Sanghyuk’s hands away from his face is a brief kiss, light and soothing, not meant to last but meant to comfort. Sanghyuk knows he will forever deny the soft sigh that escapes him when Taekwoon steps away, smiling.

“I wouldn’t have doubted it.”

There’s the sounds of footsteps in that moment, and Taekwoon’s eyes flicker over to the doorway, nose twitching slightly, and his posture relaxes as Jaehwan pokes his head around the kitchen door.

“Hey guys,” he says, jerking his thumb towards the hallway behind him. “Hakyeon’s done chit-chatting. And boy, you guys are gonna want to hear this.”

+

Mid-morning the following day finds Sanghyuk and Taekwoon huddled together in the little snow-free trench in front of Hakyeon’s cabin, waiting for the inhabitants inside to come out.

“This is a terrible idea,” Sanghyuk grumbles under his breath as he draws the front of his cloak close, cutting off the gust of cold winter air that blows their way. The enchantments on the cloak manage to reduce the frost-biting gale into nothing more than a chilly breeze once it passes through the thick cloth, but his toes are still freezing in his boots, and his fingers are red and clumsy.

“Do you think Hakyeon believed in what he said?” Taekwoon murmurs, and Sanghyuk shoots him a look from beneath the edge of his droopy hood.

“What, that he’s half human and half demon? And that while the demon entity was originally meant to be controlled by their maker, he’s somehow learned how to shift back and forth between those two forms? You know that’s crazy...”

Taekwoon arches his brow, and Sanghyuk purses his lips, looking away into the snow-covered village.

“But it sounds like a familiar case,” he whispers, and sees Taekwoon turn to look at him. “Which means, if this Hongbin man is telling the truth, we have a far more dangerous foe than his other human-demon hybrid friend coming our way.”

“We’ll be fine,” Taekwoon shrugs, like he’s talking about the grocery store running out of apples, and Sanghyuk snorts his amusement just as the door opens. Hakyeon and Jaehwan step out, closely followed by a tightly bundled Hongbin, who gives Sanghyuk and Taekwoon a wary but amicable nod in greeting.

“You two are getting along nicely,” Hakyeon hums, stuffing something into the inside of his coat. Behind him, Jaehwan adjusts his goggles over his eyes and pulls the scarf up his face, until nothing but his gigantic nose is visible. “Anyway, let’s go along, we’ve got a lot of work to do in the woods today.”

“This is the worst job I’ve ever embarked upon,” Sanghyuk complains, but he dutifully steps out into the snow anyway, red ballooning out behind him as he walks. It’s a mostly silent walk out towards the forest, and even though Sanghyuk has a million questions he wants to ask about their situation, he refrains from doing so. Hongbin looks like he’s barely slept since they talked as a group in front of the fireplace, and Sanghyuk can’t bring himself to prod for information now with good conscience. They’ll hopefully receive more answers once they retrieve Wonshik, whom Hongbin had said would most likely return to find him even though he fled earlier.

“We’re halves,” he’d explained with awkward, shaky hand gestures. “When our M-Maker took us in, we became tied through a spell when our bodies became unstable after merging with demonic energy. When we’re together, we balance ourselves out... or something like that.”

“Fascinating,” Hakyeon had murmured, a bit tactlessly perhaps, but Hongbin seemed ready to part with information if it meant they’d find Wonshik today. And so far, they’d learned of Hongbin and Wonshik’s carrying out of their maker’s bidding around the forests— murdering travellers so they could collect their souls. For what, though, is the question that even Hongbin has no answer for.

They walked past the crime scene, cut through the path Taekwoon had picked up the day before, and bypassed the clearing they’d tussled at. The deeper they walked through the forest, the eerier it felt; the silence seemed to press in on all sides, stifling, even when Sanghyuk pushed his hood back. The snow collected in high banks, the trees grew older and thicker, and ancient energy crackled in the air, like electricity. 

Then, feeling hits without warning, and they swerve as one, thigh-deep in the snow, and everything breaks down into chaos as the second demon from the other day bursts out of the woods. At first, it’s hard to see where it’s headed, but the mass twists like an uncoiling snake and dives for Hongbin, who shouts desperately, “ _Wonshik!_ ”

Faster than a blink of an eye, Taekwoon pounces on them, knocking both into the snow, and Hakyeon whips out a grubby little pouch from the inside of his coat. He shakes it open, thrusts his hand in, and Sanghyuk watches in amazement as Hakyeon’s whole arm disappears into the bag. He digs deep, and a second later he pulls out a glittery blue fabric, which he tosses over the pair of half-demons and the Wolf as they struggle.

There’s a gurgling noise like water being poured quickly out of a tiny opening, and a man’s form begins to appear from the black matter as the fabric melts over him. He rises, gasping and struggling, much like Hongbin’s transformation after Sanghyuk had thrown salt at him, though with significantly less screaming and painful rashes.

“Breathe!” Hongbin is saying, clutching Wonshik’s bare shoulders. “Wonshik, it’s okay, it won’t hurt you, breathe for me.”

He’s a handsome young man, heavily tattooed, and has messy, badly bleached hair. As the demon’s shell melts away, he’s left huddled against Hongbin in the snow, shivering as the wind blows past.

“Well, that was fairly simple task,” Hakyeon says cheerfully, and from his grubby bag of apparent infinite depths he pulls out a thick wool sweater and what Sanghyuk recognizes as one of Hakyeon’s old quilts. Both are quickly draped over Wonshik’s quaking shoulders, and Hongbin hugs the other man tightly, whispering to him. “Now that we’ve got that covered—”

There’s a soft whistling noise, almost too light for their ears, but it’s Taekwoon’s bark that alerts them first, which is followed by Hakyeon falling sideways into the snow, hand at his neck, and then there’s a stream of red dripping into the white as he coughs. A thin arrow, jet black and smoking slightly, rests upright in the snow before it dissolves into ash, and Sanghyuk couldn’t even react as something enormous and winged descends from the tops of the trees, steam coming off its back as the falling snow lands and melts on its feathers. It feels like a breath of Hell Fire, and Sanghyuk jolts when he sees that the snow around them is melting at an alarming pace, leaving their group standing in a huge puddle of water.

He knows what this is, even before Wonshik’s strangled gasp vocalizes it:  _the Maker_.

That’s when Jaehwan leaps forwards, throwing an assortment of dried flower petals and shiny little rocks into the air. Sanghuk can feel the chemical reaction of he counter-spells taking effect in the air before it begins to descend around them like a net, shimmering heat wave.

His brain is zeroing in on all of the things happening in that instance; Hakyeon lying in the red snow, Jaehwan’s spell closing in around them, and Taekwoon raising his arms to shield Wonshik and Hongbin as the creature opens its talons, like a bird of prey about to snatch its dinner, and an idea pops into his mind. And Sanghyuk’s always a bit of an ‘act first, consider the consequences later’ kind of individual, so he’s not surprised when his first reaction is to vault over the half-demons, latch onto the silver clasp of Taekwoon’s choker and rip it off him entirely.

Taekwoon shifts so fast Sanghyuk almost misses it. One moment there is man, and the next there is Wolf, launching into the air as he knocks the creature out of the sky and wrestles it away from their little hub, kicking up snow and uprooting trees as they fight their way through the woods with no regards for their surroundings. Sanghyuk hesitates momentarily, unsure if he should follow or not, but Hakyeon’s shout startles him out of his thoughts.

“Go!” Hakyeon yells from where he’s kneeling in the snow, stemming the bleeding at his neck with Jaehwan’s help, and he doesn’t need another push after that. There’s a massive ditched carved out for him to follow as Sanghyuk races across the clearing and practically slips his way down a steep hill, feet scrambling for a hold as his hands claw at the frozen earth.

He pitches himself forwards when the sounds of something not quite animal fighting catches his ear. The Wolf is on the ground, a ground-shaking snarl unfurling from its throat as it struggles to get up, and Sanghyuk leaps over splotches of blood in the snow before he throws himself over the Wolf, tossing his cloak around them as the creature’s talons come down onto the bright red cloth.

A blinding flash; and the Maker is launched backwards. The sound of more splintering wood assaults his ears as Sanghyuk groans in pain, sinking to his knees. It feels like someone had just swung an iron bat into his back, and he slumps over the Wolf as he tries to catch his breath. The Wolf whines at him, a wet nose nudging Sanghyuk’s chin up, and he glances towards the sky in time to see the Maker taking flight, feathers and black goo falling from him as it wobbles away into the clouds. Sanghyuk knows a retreat when he sees one, and all the fight seems to leave him in one fell swoop. He sits down hard into the wet snow, and doesn’t even fight the sudden burst of exhaustion that takes over.

The Wolf whines again, bumping its muzzle against Sanghyuk’s arm, and his heart tugs painfully when he sees the gashes on the Wolf’s nose, legs and back.

“Sorry,” he pants, touching a large, triangular ear. It twitches towards his hand, and Sanghyuk grins weakly when the Wolf nearly flops onto his lap, blue-white eyes looking sadly up at him. “I was late.”

The Wolf snuffles, gaze redirecting towards Sanghyuk’s cloak, and he winces as he takes in the sight. The fabric isn’t ripped, but there’s the mark of several slashes etched into the cloth. The colour there is dull, nearly burgundy, like something’s been stripped away. Sanghyuk can already foresee hours of reworking all the enchantments back in ahead of him, but that’s alright. His cloak had saved both him and Taekwoon from what would’ve been certain death, and he’s not about to complain now.

It’s also nice to have a warm body by his side, and Sanghyuk sighs as he wraps his arms around the Wolf’s neck, hugging it close. What he gets in return is the soft  _thump thump_  of the tail hitting his lower back as the Wolf moves to curl around him protectively.

They stay like that until Jaehwan crashes through the trees, swear words on the tip of his tongue and relief in his voice as he rushes to their aid.

+

Hakyeon, of course, somehow manages to make it through another potentially life-threatening incident with little to no damage at all, and is back on his feet in no time. That’s always something Sanghyuk has learned not to question, because if Hakyeon has decided that he has work to do, he will literally put death aside until he’s done his job. There are forces that just shouldn’t be meddled with, and Hakyeon is one of them.

Meanwhile, Wonshik and Hongbin are put under Jaehwan’s cautious care, Taekwoon is grumpy from the amount of bed rest he’s been put under, and Sanghyuk’s back is a blotchy mess of black, yellow, purple and brown bruises after the incident with the Maker.

“I mean, I’ll bitch about it all I want,” he hums as he sits cross-legged on the floor of Taekwoon’s temporary room. “But in the long term, I’m pretty lucky this is all I ended up with.”

“Well, I am glad,” Taekwoon announces, and Sanghyuk snickers at the sight of the elder’s slightly miffed expression as he lies on his side, watching Sanghyuk mend his cloak on the floor. It’s a beautiful sight, and he’s always adored the vibrant shade, the immaculate stitching at the hems, and the way it fits his back just right, not matter where he’s going.

“I thought shape-shifters were supposed to have superior healing abilities,” Sanghyuk jokes, and Taekwoon rolls his eyes. He looks grumpy and bored and pretty much adorable.

“Myths,” he dismisses, sniffing the air. “There is no speeding up any healing processes, even with magic potions and spells. It’s simply plain, boring rest. Anyway, we’ve got company.”

Sanghyuk turns towards the open door and sees Wonshik peering at them curiously. He looks a little healthier than before; there’s colours in his cheeks, at the very least.

“Sorry,” he says quickly. “I’m not trying to eavesdrop, I just—” he pauses, choosing his words, and then gestures to the bundle on Sanghyuk’s lap. “I just thought I know that cloak, somehow.”

“Really?” Sanghyuk asks, tilting his head, and Wonshik nods slowly.

“Before Hongbin and I— well, changed, we lived in the countryside.”

“You’re not forest folk?” Taekwoon asks curiously, and Wonshik shakes his head.

“No. But we used to hear stories from traders who to through the area, and an old one they’re reluctant to talk about was the one about the outlaw who wears red. It was thought to bring bad luck, apparently. Even saying the name would cause misfortune. The township I lived in even gave them a specific nickname after the outlaw passed through the area. We were never allowed to say it.”

“Really?” Sanghyuk says. “You guys are that serious about it?” 

Wonshik rubs his neck, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Well, there’s a load of mystery around this whole thing. Some people debate about whether or not they’re human. Some say the cloak they own is woven out of magic cloth, bound in magic and archaic power, and even without the cloak they’re a formidable presence. Creatures in the forest stay away from it. Travellers turn back when they catch sight of red in the trees. It was the first thing I thought of when I saw you in the woods with Hongbin.”

Sanghyuk bursts out laughing, eyes crinkling as he grins at Wonshik. “What, this old thing? Man, it’s just a cloak I picked up from a magician’s market ages ago. Jaehwan helped me stitch runes into the lining and mend the fastenings in the front. I won’t deny that it’s really soft and warm, but it’s definitely not the bringer of misfortunes or whatever those people say. I haven’t even heard of this story.”

“Ah,” Wonshik says, looking slightly embarrassed, and he offers a little smile back. “Well, it’s a story the people in my village were wary of. And red isn’t a colour a lot of people use on clothes ‘round here anyway.”

“‘The colour of blood will bring around true blood’,” Taekwoon quotes from the bed, and Wonshik nods. “An old saying, but probably just superstition, if you ask me.” 

“Some people believe it,” Wonshik shrugs. “Ah— it’s probably not good to talk about bad things when we’re all still on the mend. I’ll leave you two to rest.”

“You should get some yourself,” Sanghyuk jokes, and Wonshik smiles at him.

“Hongbin and I still haven’t thanked either of you properly yet,” he says quietly. “But we will someday.”

“Don’t trouble yourself with it,” Sanghyuk chuckles, waving Wonshik off. “Go back before Jaehwan catches you wandering around in the halls, or you’re about to find there’s something more dangerous in this cabin than Red Riding Hood out there, or whatever it is your township calls them.”

Wonshik winces and backs out with a quick incline of the head, long strides taking him down the hall. The cabin is quiet this afternoon, what with Hakyeon and Jaehwan working downstairs together and the other occupants upstairs getting some much deserved sleep.

It isn’t until Wonshik closes the door of his shared bedroom that he stops mid-motion, standing frozen until Hongbin lifts his head up from the fluffy pillow to ask sleepily, “Wonshik? What’s the matter?”

“I— nothing, I just—” Wonshik looks back at the door, chewing on his lip. “He knew the nickname the town elders gave him... even though I never mentioned it.”

“Eh?” Hongbin mumbles, blinking slowly up at him, and Wonshik shakes his head, stepping away from the door.

“Nevermind,” he whispers, and crawls underneath the blanket, back into Hongbin’s arms.

+

The last spell fades into the hood of his cloak, and Sanghyuk lifts the fabric in his hands, inspecting the crimson material before setting it down with a satisfied nod. When he looks up, Taekwoon is watching him again, a curious light in his eyes. Sanghyuk manages a smile as he shuffles over, lifting himself off the floor to kneel against the edge of the bed.

“What are you looking at?”

“You,” Taekwoon replies, quite truthfully. “Sometimes, when I close my eyes, all I’ll see is the red and the outline of the Maker’s talons when it clawed at your cloak.”

“Did it look cool?” Sanghyuk snorts. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair away from Taekwoon’s face, and Taekwoon’s hand darts up, catching him by the wrist. The instinctive feeling to flinch away fades when Taekwoon’s grip softens instantly, letting Sanghyuk adjust to the feeling. It’s only when he takes Taekwoon’s hand with slow, cautious motions that Taekwoon gently laces their fingers together, thumb brushing against the back of Sanghyuk’s hand lightly.

“Very cool,” Taekwoon answers solemnly, and Sanghyuk smiles. He pushes himself up a little more, and Taekwoon meets him halfway as Sanghyuk leans down for a kiss. It’s full of warmth, and when Taekwoon daringly licks at the seam of his lips, Sanghyuk finally caves and hefts himself off the floor and onto the bed. He straddles Taekwoon’s thighs with the utmost care, even as Taekwoon’s hands cradle his face and pull him closer, kissing fervently.

“Sort of glad I yanked that choker off you,” Sanghyuk breathes, and Taekwoon’s nose twitches. “Your neck looks a lot prettier without it.”

Taekwoon snorts, and places the tip of his index finger beneath Sanghyuk’s chin, tilting his face up slightly. His gaze is both heavy with heat and full of admiration, and it makes Sanghyuk think that, truly, the forgiveness and desire to move forwards despite the complications of their past had been their goal all along.

“I’m also glad you agreed to hunt with me,” Taekwoon says, and Sanghyuk’s heart swells warmly. “And I can tell you this: the world does look a bit more vivacious with  _you_  in the picture, my dear Red Riding Hood.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for taking the time to read! ^^


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